


In Reserve

by dreamlittleyo



Series: Flippant 'Verse [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Confusion, M/M, Telepathic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 08:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/708626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kirk asks the right questions and Spock is confused.<br/>(Prompt: <a href="http://dreamlittlelion.livejournal.com/13542.html">Reserve</a>)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Reserve

Much as he'd love to, Kirk knows he can't storm straight out of McCoy's office and confront Spock. Even if his first officer is conscious (a fact he can't take for granted, considering the severity of Spock's recent injuries), he's still under observation in sickbay. Not the best circumstances for private conversation. And Kirk's gut says this conversation is as private as they come.

It's not that he's avoiding the issue. Kirk is many things, but he's no coward. He's not one to put off until tomorrow the awkward conversation he could get over with today.

But for all his anxiety, Kirk knows this is neither the time nor the place. His questions can wait.

Unfortunately, quiet moments are few and far between aboard the Enterprise. Kirk certainly isn't to blame (not directly) when one wrong moment transitions straight into the next, one after another—until suddenly it's a month later, and Kirk is avoiding _Bones_ because he can't bear the pointed looks from his best friend and CMO.

Bones doesn't come out and ask, but he doesn't have to. Kirk can read his expressions loud and clear.

_Have you talked to him yet_? 

He hasn't. But it's not his fault, and it's sure as hell not for lack of effort. Last week he cornered Spock over a game of chess and got as far as, "Spock, have you noticed—?" before a red alert summoned them to the bridge.

When he finally manages to broach the subject, it's in pretty much the worst circumstances imaginable. Among his many other talents, James T. Kirk is the king of bad timing.

The gunfire has tapered off, but instead of his security team Kirk finds himself surrounded by empty corridor. He's about a mile and a half below the surface of this artificial rock that's not a planet at all, not even a little, and Kirk has no idea how he could have gotten separated from his team. They were right behind him a second ago. 

The fact that they're suddenly _not_ means trouble, especially considering Kirk's not in great shape. His left arm has gone numb, blood staining and saturating the gold fabric of his sleeve— _fuck_ projectile weapons, Kirk would take a phaser blast over bullets any day—and Bones is going to give him hell for this later. Assuming he makes it back to the ship. The way the ground is suddenly tilting doesn't bode well for his prospects.

He hopes Spock is having better luck with his directive. Stealing a well-guarded computer core should be cake compared to playing bait, right?

Kirk braces himself on the wall with his phaser hand, because he can't really _do_ anything with the other arm, and turns down a grim corridor his left. He needs to keep moving; eventually Uhura will break through the communications block and call for his coordinates, and _then_ he can get out of here and put this disaster behind him.

Except the floor isn't just tilting now, it's spinning so violently Kirk can't stay upright even with one hand braced beside him. He drops hard, jarring one knee painfully as he slouches against the wall.

He needs to get up. He needs to _move_. But when he informs his legs of this fact, they don't pay any attention at all.

He looks down and startles. All that blood on the floor can't be _his_ , can it?

Fuck, maybe it can.

He hears approaching footsteps, though he registers the sound in a detached sort of way. There's a rush of something like noise in the back of his head, growing louder, a sensation both alien and familiar. He chalks it up to blood loss and tries once more to get his legs under him. Again he fails. He's dead if the enemy finds him, but he might be dead anyway. Stubbornly, with fading strength, he raises his phaser and takes aim down the empty corridor.

He drops the weapon when Spock rounds the corner. Not hostiles. Thank god. Spock doesn't look surprised to see him, but the expression on his face—

The fact that there _is_ an expression on his face is startling enough, but the dark ferocity in his eyes takes Kirk aback.

" _Jim_." Spock crouches beside him, and Kirk grins, then swallows back a yell of pain when Spock does something to his injured arm.

"You have lost too much blood," Spock says in a low voice.

"Spock." Kirk's head is clearing somehow, despite the blood loss and fatigue. He feels more awake, more present and steady, as Spock fusses with his wounds and checks him over. "What the hell are you doing here? Where's the computer core?"

"The core is with Lieutenant Fadil. She is more than capable of completing the mission in my absence."

That's reasonable, but it's not enough. It's not an explanation. Kirk catches Spock's hand, stilling the impatient movements, and feels even sharper clarity rouse him. Spock stares, disapproval in his eyes, though he doesn't reclaim his hand as Kirk presses the issue.

"But why are you _here_?" He's a little turned around, but he's still pretty sure he's nowhere near central engineering, which means Spock is way off the scripted path right now.

Spock only stares for a moment, deliberately gathering his cool Vulcan reserve around him like a shield. Funny how, for once, Kirk can see right through it. Probably only seconds pass, but it feels like ages before Spock answers.

"Because you needed me."

"Spock—"

"Come," Spock interrupts, urging Kirk to his feet and supporting Kirk by his uninjured arm. "We cannot stay here. I deactivated several sentry drones nearby, but more will arrive soon."

Then they're moving, sudden and stilted, and though Kirk's thoughts are clear and the pain has faded to a detached corner of his mind, he can't shake the disorientation that keeps him stumbling over his own feet.

Spock is steady against his side, but the corridor is a shifting, sliding chaos. Nausea twists in Kirk's gut, and his head throbs. He doesn't know where his phaser went. He doesn't know where the hell Spock is leading him.

It's the next best thing to heaven when a door clangs shut behind them and Spock helps him settle to the ground.

"We should be safe here for several minutes."

Kirk just nods, grateful when Spock crouches again beside him. He has the irrational urge to take Spock's hand; he wonders if it would make him feel better.

Quiet resounds in the tall, narrow space they've found. The lighting is dim and grainy, and Kirk can hear an irregular thrum and thump of machinery close by. 

"Spock," he says, shifting to a position that's... not comfortable exactly, but a little less painful. "How the hell did you find me?"

Spock is silent. Kirk takes in his expression and thinks he can't be reading it right; that can't be _guilt_ he sees looming in Spock's eyes.

_Now or never_ , he thinks, and if his body weren't already flooded with adrenaline he'd probably feel a kick of it now. He hasn't exactly rehearsed what he's about to say.

"What's going on with us?" he asks finally. Stupid, not what he means to say at all. It's exactly the sort of imprecise question Spock makes a habit of evading.

"Clarify," Spock says which is... not a total dodge, actually, and better than Kirk expected.

"This whole... awareness thing." Wasn't Kirk feeling all sorts of mental clarity a few minutes ago? Why can he suddenly not form a single coherent thought? "You shouldn't have been able to find me in this stupid labyrinth, and I think... I think I could feel you coming. I could feel... something, fuck, I don't know." His head drops back against the wall with a dull thud. "Am I losing it?"

Spock is quiet a long time—or maybe it just _feels_ like a long time, Kirk can't actually tell how much time is passing.

"I was not aware you could feel my presence that way," Spock says in an impossibly soft voice. 

"Not just your presence," Kirk says. "Your... other stuff, too. When you were hurt—you were hurt _bad_ and it felt like shit." He pauses, swallows uncomfortably. "I thought you were going to die, and I couldn't do a damn thing about it."

Another long silence from Spock, and then, "You did not tell me you had experienced such effects."

"Meant to." Should he apologize? He should probably apologize. Instead he says, "Been trying to get you alone so I could say something, but there's always another crisis, y'know?" 

"Yes," Spock agrees. Then, in a strangely hesitant tone, he says, "Jim. I must apologize. I seem to have been operating under a faulty premise."

"What premise is that?" Kirk asks, and if the words come out a little slurred, well, at least they're intelligible.

"I had thought only myself affected by these stimuli. I did not realize you were experiencing them as well, or I would certainly have taken quicker action."

"Spock, if you don't start making sense I'm gonna fire you and promote Uhura to first officer."

"Lieutenant Uhura would make an admirable second in command should the position become available. However, you are in no condition to be making such decisions at this time."

"I'm the captain. I can do what I want." He's confused suddenly. Wasn't he after something specific? Isn't Spock supposed to be telling him something? "No. Stop distracting me. _Explain_." He smacks Spock weakly with his good hand.

"I think perhaps now is not the ideal time for such discourse."

"Fuck you," Kirk mutters. "And fuck discourse. Just tell me what's going on so I can—"

But of course that's the moment a heavy thud echoes from the other side of the door, then a sequence of clanks and scrapes. The heavy portal gives way bit by bit, and Kirk _really_ wishes he still had his phaser.

Then there's a crackle of static, and that's Uhura's voice, thank god, coming through grainy but calm. Spock is holding Kirk's communicator, is saying something, their coordinates. Then there's the whining hum of the transporter locking on, pulling them out just as the door crashes open.

Kirk almost vomits from the wave of disorientation. The world pitches violently before steadying enough for him to realize he's on a medical stretcher, being maneuvered away from the transporter pad.

He catches sight of Spock and grabs his sleeve before the medical staff can wheel him away.

"We're going to finish this conversation," Kirk says—or tries to say. The words come out like mush, and god, he really _does_ feel like shit.

But Spock stays with him as the stretcher is pushed into the corridor, towards sickbay. He's still there when McCoy sticks Kirk with something that sends reality crashing away, dragging Kirk into dark, dreamless sleep.


End file.
